


And through Everything (528-491 Drabble)

by CoffeeWithConsequences



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 19:39:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12327522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeWithConsequences/pseuds/CoffeeWithConsequences
Summary: Two perspectives on a casual meet-up.





	And through Everything (528-491 Drabble)

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at drabbles, for the 528-491 Drabble Challenge.

Eames (528)

Every time. He was late to meet Arthur every fucking time. It wasn’t on purpose, he just had a flexible relationship with the clock and a tendency toward distraction. 

“Mr. Eames, you’re late.” Arthur was, as always, calm and put together, standing in the light blowing snow in a camel-colored wool coat, drinking coffee from a paper cup. “I was about to leave.”

“I’m sorry, darling. Got held up.” Eames flashed a smile. It never hurt to try the charming way out.

Arthur didn’t bother to reply. “Do you have them?”

Eames nodded. He’d been working on the document set Arthur requested all week. Eastern European birth certificates were always persnickety; one had to match the type of paper and ink with the government in power in a given birth year. He handed Arthur a slim plastic envelope.

Arthur stuck the envelope in his bag without looking at it. Nice to be trusted, Eames thought. When Arthur handed him the envelope that presumably contained the cash for his fee, he returned the favor, pocketing it without counting. 

Their business concluded, Eames waited to see what Arthur would do next. It was even money whether he’d turn on his heel and walk away without another word. Today was a good day, though. Instead, his body moved almost imperceptibly from uptight professional mode to the other mode. Eames loved the other mode. With nothing more than a change of expression, Arthur was younger, smaller, happier. It was like magic.

“Want to get lunch, then?” He knew not to push his luck, but an opening volley was allowed.

Arthur shook his head, beginning to smile. “Nope.”

“Coffee? A drink? A walk? The cinema?” Eames’ eyes were merry now, knowing Arthur was willing to play along.

Arthur shook his head again.

Eames snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it! I could take you back to my flat and shag you ‘til you scream.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows, mouth threatening a full smile. “You could.”

Eames moved closer and lowered his voice, moving his tongue suggestively over his lips as he spoke. “I certainly could.”  
The walk back to Eames’ flat wasn’t long. They chatted amiably on the way, about recent jobs and the cold weather and their respective plans for the upcoming holidays. It was comfortable, collegial. The walked a regular distance apart, their bearing and words betraying nothing of what was to come. But the minute Eames’ door closed, the charade fell away. Arthur was all lips and hands, pulling Eames’ mouth to his for a kiss, pushing his coat off his shoulders, grabbing his ass through his trousers.

“My…” Eames murmured, after Arthur released his lips. “Anxious for it today, aren’t we? Been a while?”

“Shut up, Eames. Take your clothes off.” Arthur looked anything but patient.

Eames smiled. He’d found it best, in these situations, to do what he was told. He stripped off quickly, never taking his eyes off Arthur. He didn’t suggest going to the bedroom, or ask Arthur to take his clothes off, too. When he was faced with this Arthur, it was best to move quietly and not spook him. Once naked, he asked gently, “and?”

Arthur (491)

Amazing, for someone who had so many different IDs, that Arthur didn’t have one that would allow him easy movement in Slovakia. He had an English passport, and one from France, but neither of those would work so well as an actual Slovak set up. At least, that’s what he told himself when he made the call. Eames just happened to be in London for a month or so. Eames was expensive, but he was the best. And shouldn’t Arthur have the best?

It was irritating to have to wait an entire week to pick up the documents. While he waited, Arthur prowled around London, tense and irritable, taking a lot of showers in his fancy hotel steam shower and cursing himself for not thinking of something he needed that would be less time intensive. Finally, the day came. Eames was late, of course, but Arthur knew he would be. Eames was never not late. Arthur was early, just in case. He spent the time practicing what he would say to get himself invited back to Eames’ place while making Eames think it was his idea.

The weather was perfect--Arthur felt more confident while wearing layers, and his coat was new. Eames’ dark red hat and scarf made his skin glow. His heavy coat made his shoulders appear even broader. Little snowflakes caught in his mustache like stars, serving only to highlight his plush mouth.

The exchange of documents for cash was easy enough--there was no reason to bother looking. Then, as if he knew Arthur had been plotting a smooth transition from business to pleasure and was doing the favor of allowing him to escape with his dignity, Eames started the ball rolling. For him, flirting was as natural as breathing. It never felt awkward, or stilted, or strange. It was easy.

Once they got to Eames’ apartment, Arthur didn’t pretend anymore. He let the want seep from between his bones, bubble up over his skin. One great thing about Eames was his willingness to be and joy in being adored. If Arthur wanted to get him naked and stare at him, Eames was game. He even preened. When Arthur kissed him with three months of unsatisfied hunger, he took it all in, and then gave back exactly what was needed. These times, when he couldn’t turn and walk away from Eames, when he gave in to his desire, were medicine. Eames’ hands grounded him. The snow from Eames’ mustache melted when it touched his face, and he felt safe, and alive, and awake. 

Arthur never intended to be so bossy, he just forgot, when his brain was focused on pleasure, to ask nicely. Eames didn’t mind. When Arthur demanded he strip naked, he did it without question. He looked amused, watching Arthur through his clever eyes, his outerwear and layers of clothes pooled on the floor. How could anybody be so confident? “And?” he asked, willing.

“And now...everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please come visit me on [Tumblr](https://coffeewithconsequences.tumblr.com/) or read the rest of my fic here at [Archive of Our Own](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeWithConsequences/works)!


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